by J. R. Gray
Harden: you know what you’re doing.
Vance: I don’t think I do.
Harden: you know that’s all I’m going to think about now.
Vance: And? I don’t see the issue.
Harden: How do you expect me to focus on anything but you?
My skin prickled and flushed.
Vance: Again, what is the issue there?
Vance: I like you thinking about me.
And I did. Having Harden's attention was as intoxicating as I’d thought it would be.
Harden: So you want me to suck at sectionals and state?
Vance: Would it matter? Not like Yale wouldn’t want you.
Harden: Your reasoning is so sound.
I didn't want to make him suck, but neither of us needed to focus as hard on these things. He could get into the top eight at state if he put his mind to it, but I didn't think his heart had been in it for a while. Maybe it would give his parents something to brag about, but this wasn't what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.
Vance: I know. But you need to focus. I'll behave.
Harden: Please don't.
I wanted to be as supportive as possible, even if it was all driven by his parents. I didn’t want them to bleed that love for it out of him.
Vance: maybe I'll frame the blow jobs as rewards. Each race you do well in…
Harden: Are you trying to bribe me to do well?
Vance: Maybe
It couldn't hurt. I didn't want to be even the perceived reason he didn't do well. I didn't want to give any ammo to his parents.
Harden: I think it should be the other way around. If you make state, I'll blow you.
I dropped my phone. My hands suddenly didn't work. Did he just... I picked my phone back up and read the message five more times. He had. He'd offered to blow me.
Harden: Did I kill you?
Vance: Yes
Harden: Do you not want me to blow you?
Vance: I want very much for you to blow me.
Harden: I guess we'll see how you do at sectionals.
Vance: But...
I wasn't sure how to word that I never thought he'd want a dick in his mouth.
Harden: You going to question it this hard?
Was this what we'd come to? I wanted to analyze this from every level possible. Was he so invested in me doing well at sectionals he was willing to give me head?
Was this enough to make me do well?
There was too much to digest and unpack.
Harden: Well?
Vance: Well what?
Harden: Do we have a deal?
Vance: Run this by me again.
Harden: Is it that hard to understand?
Vance: I want clear terms.
I imagined him laughing at his phone and rolling his eyes, but I had a million things running through my head and I needed clarification.
Harden: Come downstairs, and I'll give you a preview.
I checked the clock. It was nearly one in the morning and a school night.
Vance: Don't tell me you're coming over. Your parents will flip out. We should be getting our sleep for tomorrow.
Harden: I'm already downstairs.
Vance: I can't open the door. My dad is sleeping in the living room.
He was always sleeping in the living room. Harden knew that. The man slept in his rocker more than his bed. Including when he had a girlfriend.
Harden was typing for a long time, and I squeezed my phone willing him to send it.
Vance: what are you typing a damn novel?
Harden: I kept typing and erasing.
Vance: What?
My gut tightened, waiting for him to reply.
Harden: I was trying to figure out a way to spend tonight with you.
My heart skipped a beat.
Vance: You want to spend the night?
I couldn't think of anything better to say, so I sent it. Why like this?
Harden: Yeah….
Vance: You spend the night all the time. Did something happen?
Harden: Is that a bad thing?
Vance: NO!
I couldn't send the message fast enough.
Vance: Did something happen?
I had to ask again.
Harden: Are you going to leave me out in the cold?
Vance: No, but you have to talk to me at some point.
Harden: Good. Now tell me how we are getting me in.
Shit. I opened my window and looked outside trying to gauge if he could get to the height. Stupid split level house.
Vance: Let me look and figure it out.
Harden: I'm walking around the house. If your neighbors call the cops you need to vouch for me.
Vance: And say what?
Harden: I don't know. We are doing homework.
Vance: Right from outside and with me inside.
Harden: Make something up motherfucker.
Vance: You know I'm not good with people and situations.
Harden: I don't know if you can feel me rolling my eyes.
Vance: I assure you good sir, I can.
Harden: Good, figure out how to get me in. I didn't wear a coat.
Vance: Great, so your dad is going to blame me for getting you sick before sectionals.
I walked into my bathroom and looked out the window. There was a tree but he'd have to crawl out to the end of a branch and jump like three feet. None of which seemed safe.
Harden: What is taking you so long?
Vance: I'm trying to find a way to not kill you!
Harden: Come open the laundry room window.
Vance: What? Why?
Harden: Because I'm at it.
I darted into the laundry room, throwing open the window to find Harden's smiling face there. He barely had his eyes over the windowsill, which was surprising because the window was one and a half stories above the ground.
"How the fuck are you up here?" I offered him a hand.
He took it and put his other on the sill, using a combination of the two to haul himself through the tiny window.
"Your dryer is vented out in the middle of the wall. I grabbed it and pulled myself up, got a foot on it, then grabbed the sill." He grinned, clearly quite proud of himself.
I stuck my head out the window seeing the pipe he'd gymnast'ed himself onto, giving a low whistle. "That desperate to see me?"
He grabbed my shirt from behind, yanking me away from the window to slam me into the washing machine. "Are you complaining?" There was an edge to his tone. It bled into his voice, and nothing had been sexier in my life.
"Don't like being needy?"
"Maybe I just need you to service me."
"Then you should have said that and not offered to sleep here." My mouth watered at the idea. But it wasn’t what I truly wanted to hear.
"Maybe it's both." He pressed his hips into mine. "It can be both."
"I like that you were thinking about me." I didn’t want to be an object right now. I was desperate for him to talk to me.
"You've made it pretty hard not to be thinking about you." He slid his hands to the back of my thighs and scooped me up, placing me on the washer.
"Wait, weren’t you at that fundraiser with your father tonight?" I said as his lips skimmed my jaw. Now I knew something had happened.
"I bailed an hour ago. Told them I had to be up early for practice."
“What happened?”
"I tried to go to bed but found myself thinking about you."
I warmed from the inside out, and heat pooled in waves below my belt, but I didn’t want to give into my dick. "So you came here because you were horny?"
"No," he muttered over my skin.
I choked on a groan as his lips sealed against me. "No?"
"First I jacked off, and it didn't help." His lips vibrated with an edge. "And then I did it again."
"Twice?" I slipped a hand between our abs, seeking out his bulge. Hard and throbbing for me. "Jesus, Harden."
"I told yo
u."
"Do you want to fuck me?" I asked, searching his face.
"Yes." He dragged his thumb over my lower lip before sliding it into my mouth. "Do you have condoms and lube?"
"No," I said, breathless and suffocating under my need.
"Have you learned nothing?” He fucked his thumb in and out of my mouth while reaching into his pocket with his other hand.
"You're the one who came here to fuck!" The whine showed through my voice. "Who comes for a booty call and doesn't bring stuff?”
"Good thing I came prepared." He eyed me as he pulled back. "A booty call?"
"What?" I couldn't read what flashed over his face. Betrayal, maybe.
"Is that all you think this is?" He poked his tongue into his cheek and pulled out of my grasp.
"You told me you came here to be serviced. Isn't that what it sounds like?" I crossed my arms over my chest.
"And sleep, Van." He pushed his hand into his hair. "What the fuck am I doing?”
I hopped off the washer, realizing I'd fucked up. "What do you mean what the fuck are you doing? You come here clearly upset and made it all about sex.”
"I'm here, and my parents are going to be so mad at me, and I guess…”
I waited for him to finish but he didn't. "You guess what?"
"I'm being stupid."
I grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around. "I don't understand what happened."
Running it back through in my mind, I was lost. We'd been playful and flirting with our banter, and then boom. Harden pulled back, and I didn't know what to expect.
“I had a horrible night,” he whispered.
“Finally.” I pulled him close.
Stiff at first, I wrapped my arms around him. He relaxed, pressing into me.
“Finally what?” He leaned his head into mine.
“You’re finally admitting something.”
“Admitting what?” He sounded dejected.
“I don’t know. You’ve been pulling away, barely talking. You tell me. Why was your night bad?” I wanted to beg him to talk to me, beg him to tell me all the things I see in the storms in his eyes, but I knew he wouldn’t talk unless he decided to.
“I have a lot on my plate. I’m not trying to be distant.” He turned, pressing a soft kiss to my temple.
“I’m your best friend. Let me in. Please don’t push me away. I can’t bear for you to let me closer physically only to push me away.”
“I’m not trying to push you away.” He gripped my arms, clinging to me. “I don’t know how to work through any of the things in my head.”
“Let’s start with tonight. Why was it bad?”
“My dad wants me to be on the campaign trail with him as much as possible. Work closely with him all summer and then as much time as I can take from school. He dropped it on me. He didn’t even ask, just expected it. For me to do what he needed. It’s why there’s been so much pressure from him and mom. The vetting, the parties, the fundraisers he keeps dragging me to. All of it has been a test to see how well I play.” He pressed his face into my neck, shaking his head.
I wasn’t surprised. We’d suspected but hearing it still hurt. “So you’d be gone all the time.”
“Yes. If I do what he’s demanding. And even if you were at Yale…” He ended his words in a sigh, exhaling a world of emotions.
“And you don’t want to be his puppet?” I prompted, hoping he’d keep talking to me.
“I want to help him but…I don’t want to miss out on my life, college. My summer. I don’t want to run for president.”
“All understandable.” I brushed my fingers down the back of his neck, trying to infuse comfort any way I could. “You shouldn’t have to give up your life for his.”
He picked up his head and looked into my eyes. I could have drown in them. “And how will I see you? What if you don’t get into Yale? What if you’re far away? Then I’ll never see you.”
“You’ll see me…” But he wouldn’t. We both knew there was little chance I’d get into Yale. I had to go wherever gave me the most money.
“Don’t lie to me to make me feel better.” He laid his forehead to mine. “I’ll barely see you if I don’t travel for my father, and if I do, it will be impossible. Think of how much time we’ll both have to dedicate to swimming. College athletics are an entirely different level.”
“Yeah.” I wouldn’t placate him. “We’ll talk. You can’t get rid of me. I’m not ever going to stop being your friend, Harden.”
“I don’t want you to just be my friend, Vance.”
“What?” I grabbed his face, staring at him.
"I think I'm in love with you." His eyes found mind, filled with sadness. "I'm sorry."
All the oxygen left the room, his words hitting like a nuclear bomb, devastating all the ground between us. My ears rang, and I tried to grab him again as I searched for words, but none came. How could I explain to him that I'd been in love with him for years without coming off like a total creep? Making my ‘asking him for help’ look almost premeditated to trick him into a relationship.
“See you."
I reached for him, grabbed at him, tried to use my hands to say what my brain wouldn't but he wasn't having any of it. He took hold of the sill and glanced back at me.
“Sorry,” he said as he put a foot on the ledge.
“Fuck no.” I dove for him before he could slip out the window. No way this motherfucker was leaving it like that.
He struggled against my hold. “Let me go.”
“The fuck I am. You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and not even give me a chance to talk about it.”
“You didn’t say a word.” He stopped struggling, but I still tightened my grip on him.
“Because my brain short circuited.”
He softened, and I tugged him. He lowered his foot from the sill and turned, hard eyes focusing on me. I knew this look. I had a few minutes to explain or lose him forever. There wouldn’t be a redo. Once he made up his mind it was done.
I had one chance to not blow this.
Fourteen
“Why didn’t you speak?”
“Because. It's not easy to say I love you and have for a long time, Harden."
"Why not?" His face changed, but I couldn't read him. He might be on the verge of running away or deciding how he would let me down easily.
"I hate that you have to poke and prod everything I say. Why can't you accept the nice things?" My emotions were so worked up, I wanted to scream, pull my hair out, or shove him. None of which would help my situation, so I stayed with my hands balled into fists at my sides.
"Are you going to fight me?" he asked, nodding at my hands.
I turned around, infuriated and unsure how to handle any of it. He slid his arms around my chest and pulled me into him, enveloping me in his embrace. I melted. No matter how mad or frustrated I was with Harden, there was no resisting him. He was a force of nature.
"No, I don't want to fucking fight you," I said, the aggression going out of me in an exhale.
"Good. I wouldn't want to have to kick your ass," Harden whispered against my ear.
I fought against his hold, wanting to prove a point or something, wanting to get away if he was going to keep up with this crap.
"No more struggling."
I kept it up, but it was half-hearted. "I will if you don't cut it out. It's the middle of the fucking night, and I don't want to stand in my damn laundry room while you poke fun at everything I say."
"Sorry," he muttered under his breath. "I don't know how to deal with this. I'm not good at it."
"How are you not good at it? You're the one with all the damn experience." I rested against his chest, the call of his warmth too hard to deny.
"With girls..." He trailed off.
"Is there a difference?" I asked, not sure why we were having this conversation in my laundry room.
“The difference is you.”
I didn't know how to interpret the sta
tement. “What do you mean?”
"It doesn't matter.”
"Yes, it fucking does." This time, I pulled out of his grasp, turning on him.
“Get it through your head. No one else I dated mattered.”
“Say what you want to say.”
He put his finger to his lips. "You're going to wake your dad.”
I pulled my hair, forcing myself to keep my tone down. "It matters, Harden. Why would it being me make any difference in the world?”
"I'm attracted to you. I’m in love with you. I stood here and told you that. It doesn't matter what my sexuality is or who else I'm into. What matters is you." He grabbed my shirt and pulled me into him. "Why do you have to be so stubborn about all of this?" There was exasperation in his tone.
"Because you say all this stuff and I don't know how to take it. You're all over the place. You go from snarky to telling me you don't know how to do this and that you want me to service you to all of this. You’re stressed about your dad, and you’re worried about not seeing me. You have been pulling away. All of it sounds like you’re clinging to something."
The feelings poured out of me, and I couldn't stop them. I had to know he wanted me for me. Not as some sort of escape.
“With you, I’m terrified of fucking it up. Fucking us up. Saying the wrong thing and losing you.” He hugged me tighter. "Do you think I'd be here in the middle of the night if I didn't need to see you?"
"I don't know. Maybe you're horny." I tried to shrug but he hugged me tighter.
I wanted to believe so badly he wanted more than sex.
"I'm always horny, but that's your fault."
I smiled into his shoulder, glad he couldn't see my face. "Why is this my fault?"
"Because sex has never been as good as it is with you."
I picked up my face and rolled my eyes. "Whatever."
"I'm serious." His eyes stayed steady, and he pressed his hips into mine. "Feel that? I'm hard twenty-four seven. It drives me crazy. I can't get enough. But I need to get it through your thick skull that it’s more than that. I climbed in your window because I want to sleep in bed with you."
A smile edged into the corners of my lips. "I like sleeping with you too."
He dragged his teeth over his lower lip. "I don't know how to do this, but I want to do this, Vance. I don't want to sleep with other people, I don’t even like that we talked about it, and I don't want to pretend like this is only sex because it's not. "